


touch my heart; i am yours

by JayofDiamonds



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Gen, M/M, Star Trek AU, Telepathic Bond, half-vulcan Jinyoung, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26161954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayofDiamonds/pseuds/JayofDiamonds
Summary: Jinyoung is Jaebeom’s second in command, and… friend. Yes, though Jinyoung has never confirmed so aloud, Jaebeom would say they’re friends. But after Jinyoung is injured on a mission, Jaebeom comes to realize how shallow his understanding of Jinyoung is. And he settles on rectifying that, much to the inconvenience of Jinyoung.(aka Jaebeom holds Jinyoung’s hand once and it opens several cans of worms)
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung
Comments: 15
Kudos: 146





	touch my heart; i am yours

**Author's Note:**

> so Jinyoung is like Spock; half human, half vulcan. hopefully this won’t be too confusing for people without star trek knowledge!! I’m not super happy with this fic but I wanted to try a vulcan spin on jjp hand-holding & I know if I don’t publish it the way it is now, it’s gonna be in the drafts forever. I hope it is still enjoyable enough to read :)
> 
> title of course from JUS2 Touch which suits this fic very much

Jinyoung awakes to the familiar beeps and whirrs of the ship's medical bay. With his eyes still closed, he meditates a moment on how he came to be there.

Ah, yes. He had breathed in mysterious spores on the planet below while trying to get Jaebeom out of a scrape. It had suddenly become difficult to breathe, and as he slowly lost consciousness, Jaebeom had fretted and hovered. Jinyoung remembers Dr. Tuan hurrying over too; nobody else seemed to be affected.

Opening his eyes slowly, Jinyoung finds Jaebeom sitting at the side of his cot, and Mark moving quietly about the small private room.

But something is still wrong. Jinyoung feels blown open and exposed, yet upon a cursory examination of his torso, everything is still intact. In his weakened state, Jinyoung finds it harder to balance his emotions, heart-wrenching fear and self-beratement swirling inside him. 

Only… it’s not _self_ -beratement, it doesn’t seem quite… his own.

With a choked gasp, Jinyoung catches sight of Jaebeom’s hand holding his, and it all becomes clear. These emotions are Jaebeom’s, flowing through the temporary bond created when Jaebeom touched Jinyoung’s hand. Wasting no time, Jinyoung slams down his psychic protections. The connection remains, but none of Jinyoung’s own humiliation or fear can make it through to Jaebeom.

“Don’t-” he rasps out, struggling to find the strength to pull his hand away, but Jaebeom only holds on tighter, face lighting up to see Jinyoung awake.

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom breathes, and his soaring relief courses through Jinyoung’s viens.

“What’re you doing,” Jinyoung slurs, hand squirming weakly, overwhelmed by the sheer force of emotion battering him, both Jaebeom’s and his own. “Captain, this is highly improper.”

“What…?” Jaebeom finally seems to string together what’s happening, and he looks down at their joined hands.

When Jaebeom’s grip loosens in confusion, Jinyoung seizes the opportunity to snatch his hand away, cutting off the telepathic link. Alone in his own mind again, Jinyoung tries to tamp down on his fluctuating emotions.

“It is inappropriate in Vulcan culture for an unmated pair to touch in this manner,” Jinyoung explains slowly.

Jaebeom’s hands smooth the edge of the medical cot awkwardly. “Holding hands?”

“Yes.”

“It can form a temporary telepathic bond,” Mark informs Jaebeom, looking quite pleased to be doing so. “Culturally speaking, it’s impolite to do it without permission. More traditional Vulcans only do it with family members or their mate.”

At Mark’s correction, an embarrassed green blush colours the tips of Jinyoung’s pointed ears, though he controls his expression easily. Vulcan and human cultures differ enough without the old-fashioned Vulcan values Jinyoung was raised with muddying the waters.

“How are you feeling Jinyoung?” Mark continues briskly.

After a moment of brief contemplation, Jinyoung replies, “I am experiencing shortness of breath. And my mind is not functioning at the level it usually does. The others returned to the ship unharmed?”

“Everyone else is fine. _You_ had a severe allergic reaction, I’ve logged it in your file. We got the spores out of your system, so you should be alright. I’ll keep you here for monitoring, and you’re off active duty until I say otherwise.”

Jinyoung nods. “Understood.” 

“So was that like a mind meld?” Jaebeom asks, still examining his own hand thoughtfully.

“No,” Jinyoung responds sharply, and Mark barks out a laugh.

“It’s like a… diet mind meld,” Mark says, leaning a hip against the edge of Jinyoung’s cot.

“I fail to see-”

“I’ll explain what diet means in this context later,” Mark says quickly to Jinyoung, leaning over to press his shoulders back, making Jinyoung lie down again. “You need your rest.”

Frowning slightly, Jinyoung settles back in the cot and turns to look at Jaebeom again. “It establishes a weak telepathic channel. A mind meld is stronger and more dangerous. As you know, I am inexperienced in that technique. Any Vulcan child can do what we just did.”

Jaebeom’s dark gaze is piercing. “You could read my mind?”

“No, like I said, the link is weaker than a mind meld. Emotions flow easily; thoughts only if they are projected.”

“And it happens whenever you touch someone with your hands?”

“For longer than a few seconds, yes.”

“Oh,” Jaebeom says, eyebrows raising reflectively as he peers down at Jinyoung’s hands. “I didn’t know that. I thought you just didn’t like touching. Could you always do that?”

“ _Yes_. If you had familiarized yourself with the basic biology of your crewmembers, you would know that,” Jinyoung responds peevishly.

“I familiarize myself with plenty of crewmember’s biology,” Jaebeom teases with a rakish grin.

In his weakened state, Jinyoung can’t help the flash of distaste that crosses his face in a wrinkle of his nose. Even more unfortunately, Jaebeom is so attuned to him that he catches it smugly.

“He’s right, Jaebeom,” Mark cuts in flatly, enjoying the privacy of the otherwise empty room to chide his captain. “The Starfleet Primer on Federation Species is something everybody on board should know by heart. There’s more to know about a person’s body than where you can stick your dick.”

Jaebeom scoffs and squawks in protest, and Jinyoung’s eyes slip closed to imagine himself peacefully alone in his cabin. He tucks his hands carefully under the blanket, tangling them together to comfort himself. It almost feels to Jinyoung like his hand still buzzes from the energy of Jaebeom’s emotions flowing through it.

Logically speaking, it would be best if it didn’t happen again.

💫

By the next week, Jinyoung is still recovering, but cleared for duty. He’s welcomed back to the bridge with a round of applause, which he acknowledges with a nod before briskly returning to his station.

Restless from all the bedrest he was forced to endure, Jinyoung elects to stand, bending over his station to assess the work of the officer who had been his substitute. In no time at all, Jaebeom appears at his right shoulder. As always, Jinyoung continues his work until Jaebeom addresses him. Often Jaebeom likes to watch Jinyoung work and needs nothing at all.

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom says, voice sounding incongruously private for the bridge. “I’m going to touch you.”

Jinyoung turns to look at Jaebeom then, an eyebrow raised in confusion. Jaebeom is standing closer than Jinyoung thought—perhaps he truly is still recovering, his senses not fully functioning—and his left hand is hovering over Jinyoung’s back.

When Jinyoung makes no move to stop him, Jaebeom rightfully takes it as permission, and presses his hand against Jinyoung’s back, above where his ribcage ends. Jaebeom gazes intently at his own hand, and Jinyoung at Jaebeom’s face.

“Your heart,” Jaebeom explains quietly, fingers splaying outward on Jinyoung’s back. “I can feel it beating here.”

It feels to Jinyoung like Jaebeom’s hand is burning right through his uniform. “All Vulcans’ hearts are there.”

“I know, I’m reading about all Vulcans.” Jaebeom grins in insufferable amusement. “Unfortunately nobody has written me a guide to my enigmatic first officer Park Jinyoung specifically.”

The air between them seems to crackle, as if a connection is strung between their gazes as it was their hands. What a fanciful notion, Jinyoung thinks, yet he cannot deny the strength of Jaebeom’s dark gaze is overpowering.

Across the room, Bambam and Youngjae erupt into a loud bout of laughter, and Jaebeom’s gaze and hand drops away from Jinyoung. The noise of the rest of the crew filters back in, making Jinyoung realize how quiet it had seemed when Jaebeom was standing so close. After a moment, Jaebeom turns back to Jinyoung, leaning over the station with him as if he is there to work and not to ask stupid questions.

Lowering his voice so only Jinyoung can hear, Jaebeom asks, “So is it true that once you reach maturity, every seven years you need to fuck so bad you basically go feral?”

Pushing valiantly through the wave of embarrassment that threatens to crash over him, Jinyoung simply blinks slowly and shoots Jaebeom a look of vague disapproval.

Tilting his head, Jaebeom grins dopily. “What?”

“If I hadn’t personally escorted you there, I would accuse you of having skipped your sensitivity training.”

“I can’t think of a more sensitive way I could’ve put that.”

“I have never experienced it,” Jinyoung explains, keeping his words decidedly vague in case a crewmember walks by. “Given my mixed heritage and biology, the probability of it ever happening is somewhat uncertain.”

“Right…” Jaebeom says thoughtfully, turning to lean back against the station and tilting his head to catch Jinyoung’s eye again. “What I’m reading isn’t necessarily true for _you_.”

“Correct,” Jinyoung replies, focusing on the screen before him.

“I guess you had better do it then.”

Fine. Jinyoung turns to meet Jaebeom’s gaze. “Do what?”

“Familiarize me with your biology,” Jaebeom says, a charming twinkle in his eye.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“We have known each other since the academy, Captain. Anything you have not already learned, you do not need to know. Excuse me.” Jinyoung begins to walk across the cabin towards Yugyeom to inquire about… something. He’ll figure it out as he goes.

But it was foolish of him, really, to expect Lim Jaebeom to take that lying down.

💫

Something tells Jinyoung the matter is far from resolved, and his suspicions are confirmed a week and a half later. He is alone on the observation deck, sitting with his tea and watching the stars when Jaebeom finds him. Silently, Jaebeom takes the chair across the table from Jinyoung, and stares at the side of his head.

“Captain,” Jinyoung greets him levelly without looking over, knowing Jaebeom will not leave until he has said his part.

“So, if you’re half Vulcan, do you feel more emotional or less emotional than a full-blooded Vulcan?”

“I have no way of measuring another being’s emotional range. Vulcan, human, or otherwise.”

“It’s just… in the reading I was doing, it emphasized the Vulcans naturally feeling very strong emotions. It’s just because of that… ancient philosopher guy… Surak, that the cultural norm has been to suppress emotion and focus on logic. But I couldn’t understand if… Vulcans feel things more strongly than humans,” Jaebeom explains, hands waving through the air as he talks. “It seems that once you see the amount of emotion a Vulcan expresses—none—any amount of emotion would seem strong in comparison.”

Jinyoung takes a moment to digest Jaebeom’s queries, enduring his usual admiration for the captain’s thought process. Finally, he says, “The Starfleet Primer on Federation Species makes no mention of Surak.”

“I did some extra reading.”

“I see,” Jinyoung replies, raising an eyebrow skeptically. Though he knows how Jaebeom enjoys reading, Jinyoung also knows how much he abhorred reading for courses in the academy. It sends an unknowable surge of emotion through Jinyoung to think how Jaebeom is devoting his time to this.

They sit in silence, Jaebeom comfortable to wait while Jinyoung collects his thoughts. Unusually, Jinyoung wants to bare himself further. Nobody has ever asked Jinyoung about his personal experiences, and he has made many observations over his lifetime with nobody to share them with. In every society he has moved through, Jinyoung is expected to be a Vulcan. Either he would conveniently meet their expectations, or he would quite shamefully be not Vulcan enough.

“Vulcans spend many developmental years training their neural pathways telepathically, in order to stop themselves from feeling overwhelming emotion entirely.” Jinyoung pauses again before exposing an old wound. “My own telepathic abilities do not extend that far.”

Jaebeom accepts it easily, unaware of the weight Jinyoung’s words bear. “So what do you do?”

“I can exert a low level of telepathic control over my own mind and others. The rest is simply restraint.”

“I can’t imagine wanting to suppress _all_ emotions. Even bad ones serve a purpose.” Jaebeom stumbles over his words for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, a display Jinyoung is privileged to witness. “I don’t mean to be… culturally insensitive-”

“Philosophical discourse with a friend is not insensitive,” Jinyoung interjects softly, soaking in the gentle smile Jaebeom offers him in return. “The traditional Vulcan mating ritual that still exists is brutal and vicious. Long ago Vulcans allowed emotions to rule them, and that brutality was simply everyday life. That is why Surak taught the supremacy of logic over emotion. A Vulcan ruled by their emotions is nasty and warlike.”

“I mean… humans can be pretty unpleasant too sometimes.”

“I know.”

Jaebeom smiles fondly at his jibe, and suddenly Jinyoung has the urge to reach out and take Jaebeom’s hand. He wants so ardently to feel how deep that fondness runs. But he cannot allow himself that, so he clenches his hands together into a knot upon the table.

“Doesn’t it… feel bad though?” Jaebeom presses, setting his elbows on the table and leaning closer towards Jinyoung. “For you. It’s one thing training yourself not to feel things. It’s another feeling them and just… bottling it up. Even I know that’s not good.”

“That is how it must be. I’m used to it,” Jinyoung replies, slipping his hands off the table and onto his lap.

“But you’re half human too. Just because you were raised Vulcan doesn’t mean you should cast aside what your human side needs. What about good emotions, like… happiness? Having a laugh with someone? What about love?”

“ _Captain_ ,” Jinyoung cuts in sharply, standing as he feels a surge of emotion rising in his throat, something like the fear of a cornered animal. “I appreciate you taking the time to listen, but I must retire to my cabin.”

“Jinyoung-”

“I cannot take the teachings that have been drilled into me since birth and distill them into a frivolous pleasantry that will sate your curiosity,” Jinyoung bites out, unable to maintain a cool tone.

“Jinyoung!” Jaebeom calls after him as Jinyoung makes his escape. He can already hear the apology in Jaebeom’s voice, but Jinyoung can’t stay and hear it spoken aloud. Jaebeom owes Jinyoung no apologies, and it would only sting to have them offered.

Back in the tranquility of his familiar cabin, Jinyoung squeezes his eyes shut so tight they hurt. He focuses on the physical feeling of pressure against his eyes rather than the confusing swirl of emotion within him.

How he burns to reach out and take Jaebeom’s hand again. It was exposing and overwhelming to awake and find Jaebeom’s hand around his two weeks ago, yet Jinyoung cannot help but yearn for that connection again. It would at least prevent this tangle of misunderstandings.

Although perhaps the problem lies in _understanding_ rather than misunderstanding. As Jaebeom uncovers piece after piece of him, Jinyoung is discovering how difficult it is to have the hidden parts stay that way. His whole life, Jinyoung has yearned for understanding, to be truly _known_ by someone. The reality of it is far more terrifying than he anticipated.

💫

Jinyoung succeeds in avoiding Jaebeom for two weeks, focused on missions and schedules and other affairs. It is, he reflects, the logical thing to do on some levels. They can work professionally together without the need for private confrontations that may cause outbursts of emotion. It is in the best interest of every person on the ship that the captain and second in command have a cordial and efficient working relationship. Further intimacy only clouds the matter.

But Jaebeom is very stubborn. Despite Jinyoung’s best efforts, Jaebeom catches him just as he’s exiting the mess hall, nearly running right into him.

Quickly blocking Jinyoung’s path with his broad shoulders, Jaebeom takes a step unbearably closer to him. “Jinyoung.”

“Captain,” Jinyoung greets him evenly, mentally resigning himself to the situation. As aloof as he may have appeared, Jinyoung has been acutely aware of every clumsy attempt Jaebeom was making to get him alone these past two weeks.

“Can I speak to you privately?”

“Of course,” Jinyoung agrees easily, like he hasn’t been actively avoiding such a development.

Jaebeom seems surprised by Jinyoung’s answer, but quickly leads him to an empty meeting room all the same, table big enough for only five or six crewmembers.

As soon as the door slides closed behind him, Jaebeom turns his earnest eyes on Jinyoung. “I’m sorry for what I said-”

“You owe me no apologies,” Jinyoung cuts in quickly, already feeling unsteady in Jaebeom’s presence. Clearly, this was a mistake.

“I upset you.”

It hurts to have Jaebeom point out Jinyoung’s persistent inadequacy. Jaebeom probably doesn’t even realize how his words stick into Jinyoung like the barbs of childhood bullies.

“How could you have? A Vulcan does not get upset.”

“Aren’t we friends, Jinyoung?” Jaebeom steps into Jinyoung’s space again, and reaches a tentative hand out to touch Jinyoung’s elbow comfortingly. “You can… be yourself around me. Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s not… Vulcan enough. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Jinyoung insists, feeling oddly calm and in control, despite Jaebeom’s words and eyes and touch dripping with devotion. “Every emotion I feel is one I should not be feeling. And you… provoke far too many in me.”

“I can’t apologize for that.”

“I was not expecting you to.”

Jaebeom lets his hand slip off Jinyoung’s arm, and Jinyoung tries not to feel bereft. But then Jaebeom raises it again, presenting it palm-up and loose. That hand that has been driving Jinyoung to the point of distraction, the familiar broad palm and blunt fingers.

Without speaking, Jinyoung knows what Jaebeom is offering, and he sees no reason not to accept. To many Vulcans, Jinyoung and Jaebeom’s relationship is more than close enough to make finger-touching appropriate. And Jinyoung wants to. Stars, does he want to.

“This is the traditional posture,” Jinyoung says, and takes Jaebeom’s hand by the wrist until it’s at shoulder height. He holds his own hand out and parts his middle and ring fingers. “Split your fingers, like a Vulcan greeting.”

Jaebeom obeys, and Jinyoung touches their fingertips together, then their palms. The bond flares open, and through it rushes their mixed emotions to form a stream running both ways. As it flows, the emotions settle, like gravity pulling water to become placid.

They share in the weighty guilt of letting their argument fester, the powerful undertow of trust and fondness. Jinyoung recognizes the same deep care for him that he felt the first time the connection opened. And perhaps Jaebeom can feel the current of Jinyoung’s own regard.

Between them, every overpowering emotion becomes a delicate ripple, balanced into a soothing equilibrium.

💫

It becomes a habit. Though Jaebeom and Jinyoung appear outwardly the same, working cohesively again after a much gossiped about spat, in private they change. Jinyoung has always found discussion with Jaebeom stimulating, the captain having a quick mind under his raffish demeanour and occasional recklessness.

Yet it seems intellectually rousing conversation is not the only thing Jaebeom can offer Jinyoung. They don’t quite make appointments for it, but it is always after their shifts, always in Jaebeom’s cabin. Jinyoung arrives, pressing the guest’s button to announce his presence, though Jaebeom has long since given him the passcode, and Jaebeom invites him in. Jaebeom is always dressed down, and Jinyoung is always still in his crisp blue shirt and black pants.

They sit at Jaebeom’s small dining table. Sometimes they talk, or have dinner. They don’t talk about their linked hands, or the emotions that gently push and pull like a tide between them. It devolves from the formal Vulcan finger-touching to simply holding one hand in the other on the tabletop. Jinyoung finds a thrill in this casual intimacy.

Of course it is Jaebeom who first breaks the tradition of not talking about what they’re doing.

“You like doing this,” Jaebeom observes, squeezing Jinyoung’s hand. It’s not a question, but rather an opportunity for Jinyoung to fill the companionable silence.

“It is… appropriate,” Jinyoung replies delicately. “Though my family was very traditional, within the wider Vulcan culture it is considered acceptable between family members or close friends.”

“Or lovers.”

“Yes,” Jinyoung replies, unable to stop the uneasy hesitation that enters the stream of emotion running between them.

Yet the tide of Jaebeom’s calm comes back stronger than ever, soothing Jinyoung.

“Why do you like it?”

“I told you.”

“It’s _appropriate_ ,” Jaebeom repeats quietly, a thrill of endeared amusement passing between them.

“When I feel strongly, I cannot express it outwardly. But you were right. It hurts to keep those emotions inside, as if they are a kind of energy trapped within me,” Jinyoung explains clumsily. “This is an enjoyable compromise.”

“I’m sure nobody would judge you, if you decided to start being more expressive.”

“I would.”

“I suppose I can hardly complain if we do this instead,” Jaebeom says, his assurity overpowering the self-doubt bubbling up within Jinyoung.

Jaebeom runs his thumb gently across Jinyoung’s knuckles, and though it does nothing to alter the bond, the motion comforts Jinyoung all the same.

💫

Jaebeom awakes to a harsh pain curving around the right side of his ribs. His eyes shoot open, but he relaxes quickly at the familiar sight of the medical bay. Familiar because it seems someone always gets injured one way or another on their missions. Fortunately, it’s usually Jaebeom himself.

For a moment, Jaebeom wonders if he will find Jinyoung by the side of his medical cot, worried and heartsick. He entertains the fantasy of reaching out and taking Jinyoung’s hand reassuringly, understanding those tangled emotions roaring beneath the surface and feeling them trickle away.

But his heart sinks when he finds only Mark in the room, turning to frown at Jaebeom when he hears his grunts of discomfort.

“Welcome back,” Mark greets him sardonically.

Pain sears through Jaebeom’s side, making him wince as he tries to sit up. This time had been a cave-in, which is vastly preferred to hostile alien life. Jaebeom winces twice over to remember Jinyoung warning him about the unstable nature of the cave system.

Mark gives him a highly unsympathetic look. “Oh, does it hurt? Let that be a lesson to you.”

“Everyone get back to the ship okay?”

Leaning over to check Jaebeom’s vitals on the machine behind him, Mark nods. “Everyone got back alright. Ensign Kim’s arm is broken, but he’ll live.”

“Where’s Jinyoung?” Jaebeom asks shamelessly. Mark would be able to see right through any attempts at being subtle anyway.

“Well, as second in command, logic would dictate he run the ship while you’re incapacitated,” Mark says in a teasing tone.

“So that’s what he’s doing.”

For the first time since Jaebeom woke up, Mark seems surprised, probably at Jaebeom’s sullen tone. “Is that a problem?”

Jaebeom sighs. “No.”

_I just hoped he’d be here, like I was for him_ , goes unspoken.

It’s strange that after years of knowing Jinyoung, a couple of months have changed him so entirely in Jaebeom’s mind. Even stranger to think that despite this, Jinyoung remains unchanged in the minds of others. Has Jaebeom been imagining the affection Jinyoung has for him? Is it all wishful thinking, misinterpreting his own feelings as Jinyoung’s in the swirl of emotion they share?

“You’ve broken two ribs,” Mark is saying, “and you could’ve pierced a lung- Jaebeom, are you listening to me?”

“Yes,” Jaebeom replies automatically.

“Liar. I’ll keep you here all week for monitoring if you keep up that attitude,” Mark grumbles, but when Jaebeom later asks to return to his cabin to rest, he agrees.

But when Jaebeom is alone with his thoughts, he realizes how unappealing they currently are. Over the years, he had learned Jinyoung’s tiny facial shifts and body language, but suddenly it feels like he’s no longer fluent. The access to Jinyoung’s emotions had seemed like a key to deeper understanding. Sometimes it’s as if Jaebeom knows less than ever.

It’s not true of course—Jaebeom could talk for hours about the precious pieces of Jinyoung he’s been entrusted with. There was always so much more depth to Jinyoung than Jaebeom was allowed to see. Now that he is allowed in, he feels lost at sea.

Is the love he feels just his own? The learning curve has been steep when trying to interpret the muddle of emotions between them. Jinyoung respects him, cares for him. That much Jaebeom knew before their hands ever touched. It’s a kind of love, Jaebeom supposes. But is it the same kind as Jaebeom’s love for Jinyoung?

Tired of his restless thoughts, Jaebeom leans over to grab his communicator from the bedside table. He supposes he could read, watch a disc, but instead he stares at the communicator in his hand and decides to open a communication with Bambam on the bridge.

“ _Captain!_ ” Bambam answers jovially. “ _You’re alive!_ ”

“How’s it going?”

“ _Uh… fine? The only other person who’s more of a control freak than you is in charge so we’re ahead of schedule._ ” 

“How… how’s he holding up?”

“ _Jinyoung?_ ” Bambam’s chair squeaks as he moves, presumably to look over at Jinyoung. “ _Same as always I guess. Cool as a cucumber. ‘Cept he’s in your chair._ ”

“So he’s fine?”

“ _Should he not be?_ ” Bambam pauses, then snorts in amusement. “ _What, you thought he’d be pining away with you gone? He’s probably thrilled to have the ship running efficiently for once. Y’know, if he could be thrilled._ ”

“Right,” Jaebeom says, rolling his eyes.

After a few more jibes from Bambam, Jaebeom barks at him to get back to work and closes the channel.

Great. Cool. _Cool as a cucumber._

Normally Jaebeom would never trust Bambam’s judgement with regard to Jinyoung, but this time his words only feed Jaebeom’s doubts so he holds on to them. Moving stiffly to lie down again, Jaebeom falls quickly into a fitful sleep.

When Jaebeom awakes, it’s to the sound of a passcode being entered to his cabin door, followed by the pneumatic swish of the door opening. Blearily, Jaebeom props himself up in bed. His heart sinks to see how calmly Jinyoung steps in, stopping just inside the shadowy entryway to look at Jaebeom.

Suddenly Jinyoung is halfway across the room before Jaebeom realizes, then on the bed before him, then in his arms.

Careful of Jaebeom’s injuries, Jinyoung doesn’t squeeze him tightly, though his face is pressed hard into Jaebeom’s neck. Jinyoung’s arms snake around to Jaebeom’s back, slipping one hand under his collar and the other up the back of his shirt.

At the touch of Jinyoung’s hands against his skin, Jaebeom feels a crashing wave of dizzying emotion flow into him. Its strength seems to buffet Jaebeom about like a tiny boat in a stormy sea, yet their bodies both remain still on Jaebeom’s bed. Jaebeom can feel each point of connection burning cold where Jinyoung’s fingertips touch him.

As the roiling waters of emotion settle, Jaebeom begins to recognize one current from another. Worry, anger, uncertainty, relief, love. _Love_. The hardest part is understanding if the love is his own, or Jinyoung’s too.

After the initial flood, it takes longer to reach the usual equilibrium, but Jaebeom finds he doesn’t want to separate from Jinyoung anyway. Under his smarting ribs, Jaebeom’s chest feels hollowed out at the sheer depth of what runs between them. And now that he considers it, his ribs don’t hurt quite so much. Perhaps Jinyoung shares in that pain too.

“Jinyoung?”

“I…” Jinyoung begins raggedly, pulling his face away from Jaebeom, “I apologize for my outburst.”

Carefully, Jaebeom takes Jinyoung’s hands in his and unwinds Jinyoung’s arms from around him so they can rest in his lap. A green blush twinkles across Jinyoung’s cheeks, from ear tip to ear tip, and a rich bashfulness spills into the stream between them.

“I hear we’re ahead of schedule.”

“Yes. The faster we get to Starbase Yorktown, the sooner our rest period can begin.” Jinyoung’s tone recovers his usual neutrality. “At least you chose a convenient time to injure yourself.”

“Thank you,” Jaebeom says, feeling calmed by Jinyoung’s hands in his. He realizes then how Jinyoung’s actions, though different from what Jaebeom’s would have been, reflect how he cares all the same. Logically, if Jinyoung had been by Jaebeom’s side, they both would have been worrying about Jackson being in charge of the ship. “You were worried about me.”

“If your lung had been punctured you could have died,” Jinyoung explains crisply. “You are a vital member of the crew, it is only logical to have concern for your wellbeing.”

Jaebeom smiles foolishly, comfortable in the warm current of Jinyoung’s affection that betrays his aloof words. So he takes a risk. He’s very experienced with risk-taking, but this has always been one he’s feared.

“Is it true that this,” he squeezes Jinyoung’s hands, “is the Vulcan equivalent of kissing?”

“It is not.”

“Then what is?” Jaebeom gives Jinyoung his most charming smile, although he’s sure Jinyoung has long since developed immunity to it. “I’m a… kinesthetic learner.”

“You are not,” Jinyoung retorts, raising an eyebrow and retracting his hands.

The connection stutters closed, and Jaebeom takes it as a sound rejection. He dips his head down awkwardly, relieved Jinyoung can’t feel his bitter devastation.

But before Jaebeom can feel too sorry for himself, the bond rushes open once again, coursing through his head as Jinyoung puts his hands gently on either side of Jaebeom’s face.

“Jaebeom,” Jinyoung says, the deep well of his love washing away the muddy turmoil in Jaebeom’s heart.

Though he would like to kiss Jinyoung, Jaebeom thinks then that he would be happy to remain this way. In some ways, the intimacy Jinyoung offers Jaebeom is even more sacred than kisses he has shared in the past. If Jinyoung does not kiss, Jaebeom is willing to learn that language, foreign as it may be to him.

Yet Jinyoung surprises him once again, taking Jaebeom’s face more firmly in hand and leaning forward to kiss him. The rush of emotion is so strong, Jaebeom wonders in the back of his mind whether Jinyoung’s lips work like his hands. Or perhaps they have both been yearning for this for a long time.

Still injured as he is, Jaebeom curls a hand around the back of Jinyoung’s neck to pull him down into his lap, nearly knocking their teeth together in his eagerness. Jaebeom’s heart quivers and trembles in the torrent of emotions so strong he can’t put a name to them. He has to focus on the points of contact to ground himself—Jinyoung’s hands cradling his face, his own hands too rough on Jinyoung’s neck and thigh, the way their mouths move together. 

When Jinyoung finally pulls back, Jaebeom feels like he’s coming down from a high. Jinyoung is blushing green and he plucks Jaebeom’s hands off his body to hold again in his own.

“As you can see, Vulcans and humans share many-” Jaebeom interrupts Jinyoung’s flustered explanations with a quick peck on the lips, which Jinyoung responds to eagerly before righting himself again. “Yes. So. Do you… intend to court me?”

“I thought I already was.”

“I see. I find that… most agreeable,” Jinyoung says, almost shyly, blinking slowly down at their joined hands.

When Jinyoung blinks slowly, Jaebeom can just catch the clear film of his third eyelid retreating as his eyes open again. Inexplicably, it always fills Jaebeom with tenderness.

“You’re so cute,” Jaebeom says without thinking. At Jinyoung’s puzzled look, Jaebeom laughs. “Your third eyelid makes me think of a cute little cat.”

“I fail to see what size has to do with the matter, felines of all sizes have nictitating membranes.” Jinyoung purses his lips. “As do reptiles, a more popular choice of Terran creature to compare Vulcans to.”

“Nope. A little cat.”

Jinyoung frowns, but the unbridled affection flowing between them doesn’t change. “You are a most illogical man, Lim Jaebeom.”

“Aren’t you happy that I am?”

Jinyoung takes an unsteady breath, reassured by Jaebeom’s touch and devoted gaze. “Yes, I find that I am… happy.”

“So am I.”

Squeezing Jaebeom’s hands, Jinyoung’s lips twitch and eyes turn mirthful. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!! please leave a comment and kudos if you did enjoy!


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